


The Journey of Knowledge

by PattRose



Series: The Journey Series [8]
Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: Love, Lovesickness, M/M, Poetry reading, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PattRose/pseuds/PattRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russ comes to see Milt at home after the kidnapping and Milt is surprised by Russ’s attitude. </p><p>This is a very short one.  But it talked to me and I had to write it.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journey of Knowledge

The Journey of Knowledge  
By PattRose  
Summary: Russ comes to see Milt at home after the kidnapping and Milt is surprised by Russ’s attitude. 

 

Kim and Fontanelle were both babysitting Milt when Russ showed up. “Is everything all right?” he asked. 

Kim smiled. “He’s in bed, he was tired. The pain killers were kicking his ass. So, let him sleep, Russ.”

“Thank you both for watching out for him. I’m just so fucking grateful that he’s all right. Right? He is all right?”

“Where the man beat him with the belt, he is going to be very sore, but the doctor said probably no lasting scars. He’s got bandages on him and he’s really doped up. So, let him sleep. He’s been in a lot of pain.” Kim got her things and got ready to leave. 

Fontanelle walked up and said, “Are you okay with him alone, or would you like me to stay out in the living room for tonight?”

“We’ll be just fine alone, thanks. In fact, thank you both for taking such good care of him. Kim, I think I’ll stay home tomorrow if that’s okay with you.” 

“That’s fine with me. Relax, read to him even while he’s sleeping. It’s relaxing. I noticed a lot of books of poetry, he would probably like that.”

“Thanks for the idea. I will read to him. Drive safe, both of you,” Russ said as he walked them to the door, watched them leave and locked up behind them. 

Russ walked into the kitchen and made himself a drink. He needed it. And then he got a bottle of water in case Milt needed something. Russ needed something much stronger.

He opened up the bathroom door off of his bedroom and turned the light on. There was just enough light for him to read to Milt. And he was going to read some good ones. Maybe Milt would be able to hear them through the drug filled haze he was under. 

Russ changed into his sleep pants and tee shirt and sat down with a book of poetry. In fact, he stood back up and got three down. He didn’t know how long he needed to read to Milt, but he would until he woke up and wanted to be held in his arms. 

Russ took the first book and went to where it always went. It was one of his favorite poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

Russ started to read.  
_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways_  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.  
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace  
I love thee to the level of everyday's  
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.  
I love thee freely, as men strive for right  
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise  
I love thee with the passion put to use  
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.  
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
With my lost saints, --I love thee with the breath,  
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,  
I shall but love thee better after death.

And before Russ could even think about anything else, he started to cry. He sobbed his heart out and did it as quietly as he could. Russ knew that he had almost lost Milt. It was so close. That man would have done more than just kill Milt. He would have ruined him for the rest of his life. Russ continued to sob with his head in his hands. 

“Russ, could and lay by me, please?” Milt called out. 

Russ stopped crying immediately. He slid into the bed with Milt and tried not to get too close to his backside. He was all bandaged up and Russ didn’t want to hurt him.

“Come and lay in front of me. I want to talk to you. I want to see you. Okay?” 

Russ got out of the bed and went around and slipped in on the other side. Russ didn’t realize he was still crying, but he was. 

“Kiss me, Russ.”

And Russ stopped crying, wiped his face off with a kleenex on the night stand and kissed Milt with such passion he wasn’t even sure where it came from. “I’m so sorry, Milt.”

“I love you, Russ. I loved the poem you read. Could you read to me some more? I find it very relaxing,” Milt pleaded. 

Russ got the next book out and said, “This one is called, Longing by Matthew Arnold. I think you’ll like it.”

_Come to me in my dreams, and then_  
By day I shall be well again.  
For then the night will more than pay  
The hopeless longing of the day. 

_Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,_  
A messenger from radiant climes,  
And smile on thy new world, and be  
As kind to others as to me. 

_Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,_  
Come now, and let me dream it truth.  
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,  
And say My love! why sufferest thou? 

_Come to me in my dreams, and then_  
By day I shall be well again.  
For then the night will more than pay  
The hopeless longing of the day. 

Milt kissed Russ again and said, “One more and then I want you to sleep with me.”

“This is my favorite one, Milt. It’s called I Love Thee by Eliza Acton. You’re going to like it, too.”

_I love thee, as I love the calm_  
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!  
I love thee, as I love the balm  
Of early jes'mine flow'rs.  
I love thee, as I love the last  
Rich smile of fading day,  
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,  
On rapture pass'd away.  
I love thee as I love the tone  
Of some soft-breathing flute  
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,  
When all beside is mute. 

_I love thee as I love the first_  
Young violet of the spring;  
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,  
To scented blossoming.  
I love thee, as I love the full,  
Clear gushings of the song,  
Which lonely--sad--and beautiful--  
At night-fall floats along,  
Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet  
The hours of rest and dew;  
When melody and moonlight meet  
To blend their charm, and hue.  
I love thee, as the glad bird loves  
The freedom of its wing,  
On which delightedly it moves  
In wildest wandering. 

_I love thee as I love the swell,_  
And hush, of some low strain,  
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,  
The past to life again.  
Such is the feeling which from thee  
Nought earthly can allure:  
'Tis ever link'd to all I see  
Of gifted--high--and pure! 

Russ looked down and saw that Milt was sleeping and he kissed him on his forehead and pulled the blankets up around both of them. Russ probably wouldn’t sleep, but he loved being next to Milt. That’s what was most important. Russ realized he was on another journey and this one was to find true knowledge. And he found it. He found out how much Milt meant to him. He found out that he could cry and be okay with that and that he loved Milt more than life itself. It had been a hard journey, but well worth it in the long run. Russ would hold Milt as long as he needed to. Fuck his job…

 

TBC


End file.
